


The Worst Case in Auror History

by Kiertorata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_drizzle, Desert, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/pseuds/Kiertorata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arguments arise and death becomes a distinct possibility when Auror Potter and Auror Malfoy find themselves stranded on a desert. Pre-Drarry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Case in Auror History

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for HP_Drizzle 2015. My prompt was: "When you’re stranded in the middle of a desert, arguing about who’s at fault is a terrible idea." What a fun fic to write! Thanks a million to my beta [pineapplebooks](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapplebooks/pseuds/pineapplebooks)!

SCENE 1: AUROR POTTER AND AUROR MALFOY FIND THEMSELVES IN A DISCONCERTING SITUATION AND ARGUE ABOUT WHOSE FAULT IT IS

“Brilliant,” Harry said. “Just brilliant.”

Draco frowned as he brushed the sand and dust off his Auror robes. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the middle of a fucking desert, because _some idiot_ decided to grab hold of me in the last second, instead of staying somewhere where he could get hold of a wand and make himself useful.”

Harry grabbed the worn roll of parchment for the tenth time, but nothing happened. “It’s a one-way Portkey. It’s a fucking one-way Portkey!”

“I heard you! Stop shouting at me,” Draco snapped. He shaded his eyes and looked around. There was nothing in view except endless sand dunes and a bright blue, cloudless sky.

“Why’d you have to grab onto me?” Harry continued angrily. “At least you could have had a decent chance of doing something about the gang members and then getting me out of here if you had stayed and tried to get your wand back.”

“Never. Leave. Your. Partner. The first rule of being an Auror. Ever heard of it, Potter?” Draco said sarcastically.

“But neither of us had our wands!” Harry retorted. He kicked the sand in frustration, and it went soaring in a small curve around their feet. “Fuck it,” he continued, having calmed down a bit. “I guess there’s no sense fighting about it. We can’t change the past and we have a problem to deal with now. We need a plan.”

“For once, you want to have a plan. I like that, you know. Plans are good. Plans keep people alive,” Draco said unhelpfully.

“Shut up and start thinking. First of all, we need to take care of ourselves. No wasting of resources—“

“What resources? We only have the clothes on our back,” Draco reminded.

“Stop being a prat. Resources like energy. We can’t afford making any mistakes or we might end up wasting what’s remaining of our strength.”

Draco sobered up and nodded.

“We need to locate water and shelter,” he said. “And we need to get a message out to the Aurors to get help. We just need to decide what to prioritize.”

“Getting to the closest town would solve all of our problems,” Harry said. “I’m sure we could then get into contact with the local Aurors, or whatever they have for wizard police where we are. But we don’t know where the closest town is—“

“Obviously,” Draco put in.

“—and I doubt we can get enough information from our surroundings to guess what is the best way to go. From the position of the Sun, we can make a guess at where directions are, and once the stars come out, we can confirm that, but it doesn’t really help us.”

For the first time since their sudden arrival at the desert, Draco looked alarmed. “You don’t think we’ll be out here until night? How long do you suppose we’ll survive without water?”

“I reckon about one day, two if we don’t move much,” Harry said grimly. He tried to recall everything he could from the Auror survival training. Most of it didn’t apply to extreme environments like this, unfortunately.

They improvised headwear out of their Auror cloaks and sat down to think. The heat was already getting to them. Harry’s brain refused to cooperate, and his mind was void of ideas.

“I have an idea,” Draco said after a few minutes. “It might be a bit far-fetched.”

“Let’s hear it,” Harry said, glad that at least one of them still had a functioning brain. Although when it came to Draco, Harry wasn’t sure if he ever had a fully functioning brain. Draco wasn’t exactly what one would call sane.

As if to confirm Harry’s thoughts, Draco started: “We could make very large patterns in the sand by dragging our feet. Write our initials, or something of the like that Kingsley and the others would understand.”

“How will they see it?” Harry asked, sceptical.

“Muggles have their little cameras in the sky—“

“Satellite cameras.”

“Muggles have their _satellite cameras_ , and perhaps if we are lucky, our work will be spotted and someone will broadcast it and…”

“And if someone in the Auror department hears about it, they will know to come get us,” Harry finished. “Or at least a Muggle helicopter would come for us.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Harry said. “And the pattern needs to be very big. But it’s not an entirely useless plan. It doesn’t require us to move so much after we’ve finished the pattern and that saves energy. Let’s get started.”

They argued for a while about whose initials would come first and how big and wide the letters needed to be, and got to work. They walked side by side, dragging their feet to form part of the first bar on the letter ‘H’.

“Funny that you know about satellites,” Harry said as they worked. “Since you own a television, it’s pretty clear that you’re not exactly hostile towards Muggles anymore, but knowing so much about Muggle technology...” He tut-tutted, clearly amused.

“I talk with Granger sometimes,” Draco said defensively. “I can’t help it if she insists on assaulting me with useless information. One does not simply stop Granger when she’s explaining something.”

Harry chuckled. “True.”

*

About an hour and three letters into their work, Harry suddenly looked around to see that the air left of them was getting dense with sand and dust.

“Shit!” Harry shouted. “Wrap yourself up in your cloak, quick!” He huddled close to Draco and pulled his cloak over himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

They dropped to the ground and tried to keep themselves covered as well as they could while the sandy wind roared around them. Harry didn’t know how long the storm lasted, but it felt like a small eternity when he crouched next to Draco and desperately tried to filter the air he breathed with a section of his cloak. Finally, they could feel the wind slowing down and the air becoming more diluted around them.

“Ugh. I have sand in my mouth,” Draco said the first moment the sand had cleared enough for it to be safe to open one’s mouth. He spat aggressively. “And my nose feels absolutely disgust—“

“Look.”

There was nothing left of their letters. Just identical sand dunes in every direction.

“I’m an idiot!” Draco cried. “I’m such an idiot! That was the most worthless, idiotic plan ever.”

“It wasn’t a bad plan,” Harry consoled him. “We just didn’t take sandstorms into account. We’re both idiots.”

“But we wasted at least an hour and Merlin knows how much of our energy!”

Harry was annoyed too, but he didn’t show it. “Let’s just start walking,” he said resignedly. “We need to find shelter from the sun.”

They chose a direction at random, and started to walk, weary from their work and thirstier than ever before.

“You don’t think they might have a secret base around here?” Draco said hopefully, before they had advanced far.

“It’s unlikely. I think they just set up the Portkey to get rid of us. I bet there were a bunch of other objects planted in that room, probably set to take us to Greenland or Antarctica or whatever.”

Draco nodded. Then he added in a wistful tone, “Greenland would have been nice.”

 

SCENE 2: FRIENDS ARE HAPPILY UNAWARE THAT ANYTHING IS WRONG

Hermione sipped her tea contentedly and turned the page of her book. It was her day off, she was in the middle of a good book, and later that evening the old gang would gather at their place for dinner.

Her group of friends was slightly different from what she would have expected it to be when she left Hogwarts. In addition to Ron and Harry, Neville and Luna were part of it, of course. The fact that Ginny was a part of their gatherings surprised no-one, but what was surprising was that Dean had started to spend time with them too, and Harry and Dean seemed to get along fine. Harry coming out as gay probably had something to do with that, Hermione mused. All of the antipathy between them had dissolved once it had become clear that Ginny wanted Dean, Dean wanted Ginny, and Harry wanted neither of them.

Hermione had befriended Padma at the office, and eventually Parvati, Lavender and Seamus had also found their way to their group. But undoubtedly the most surprising thing had been when Harry had been paired up with Draco as Auror partners. Instead of killing each other within the first day, they had turned out to make a pretty good team. Draco had started to join them at the pub on Fridays, and gradually a bunch of Slytherins became an ordinary part of their hangouts.

_I wouldn’t have ever thought I would get along with Pansy Parkinson_ , Hermione thought amusedly. But here she was, reading a book lent to her by the very same Slytherin princess.

She heard the Floo go off and a second later Ron stumbled out, groceries in hand.

“Hey ‘Mione,” he said, and having placed the groceries on the kitchen table, stooped down to give her a kiss.

“You’re early,” Hermione said, ruffling Ron’s hair affectionately.

“Kingsley let me leave early today, because I was already done with my report. I thought I’d get started with dinner.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Erm, yeah.” Nobody ever mentioned it out loud, but Hermione wasn’t exactly a great cook. “You just enjoy your day off,” he added tactfully before starting to unload the groceries.

Hermione put her book down and watched her boyfriend work in the kitchen. “Anything interesting happen at work today?”

“Not to me. It was report writing all day, unfortunately. But Harry and Draco got to enjoy some action. I believe they’ve caught that gang by now.”

“What gang? The one involved in magical drug trade that the Prophet has been writing about for weeks?”

“Well, technically it’s confidential Aurors business. But yeah, that gang,” Ron couldn’t help disclosing with some pride. “We’ve been trying to trace their actions for the past three months, and yesterday we finally got a reliable lead as to their whereabouts.”

“I hope Harry and Draco are alright,” Hermione said, frowning. “They’re both a bit reckless sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t worry about them. They’ve survived a lot worse than this, and according to our information, there were four gang members at the location at most. And do you think anything could keep Harry away too long when I’m making treacle tart for tonight?” he joked.

“You’re right,” Hermione laughed.

 

SCENE 3: ENDLESS WANDERING AND ENDLESS COMPLAINING OCCUR

“Where are all the desert babes?” Draco complained. “The Sahara has been falsely advertised to me. When will we come across a rich maharaja who will invite us into his palace, offer us cold drinks and provide harem girls to entertain us?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’ve read too many of those Arabic tales. I told you they give you weird ideas.”

“ _One Thousand and One Nights_ is an excellent piece of classic literature I’ll have you know!” Draco protested.

“How do you even know that this is the Sahara? For all we know, this could be the Kalahari or some other desert.”

“Don’t ruin my fantasies! I still have my fingers crossed for harem girls,” Draco said.

They had been wandering for at least an hour, and so far there had been no sight of vegetation. They were starting to feel incredibly weary and dehydrated. Harry wondered if it would have been better to just stay where they were and leave the walking to when it got darker.

“I’m so thirsty. My tongue feels like I’ve downed three bottles of firewhisky,” Draco complained.

“Stop your eternal whining and keep moving,” Harry replied half-heartedly.

“I’m burning. It’s painful and uncomfortable and I will probably get a hideous tan! I’ll end up looking all plebeian and outdoorsy like you.”

“You’ll end up red as a lobster,” Harry said and grinned. “If you had a tan, like athletic, sensible people like me do, you wouldn’t burn as badly. But look on the bright side. You’ll probably get very nice highlights in your hair.”

Draco put his hands to his hair, as if in panic. “My hair! I don’t want anything to happen to my hair. I like my hair the way it is.”

“Vain git,” Harry muttered, but Draco was so accustomed to hearing those words from him that he didn’t react to them.

“I’ve always regretted not becoming an Animagus,” he said instead. “Oh what I would give to be able to turn into a nice lizard or gazelle right now.”

“Or a camel. I could ride you, and you could get us the hell out of here,” Harry said, not really considering his words.

“Ride me, Potter?” Draco said and raised one eyebrow suggestively.

Harry was glad that his face was burnt so that his blush wouldn’t show.

Suddenly something else took Draco’s notice.

“Look! A snake!” Draco exclaimed, pointing at the animal in question. “A lifeform, a fellow creature in the midst of this hopeless, vast desert. A companion, a friend—“

“Dinner,” Harry growled. “Let’s catch it.”

“Dinner? I am not eating a snake! And besides, how would we get fire for cooking it without our wands, oh wise one?”

“Do you think I care at this point?” Harry said, ready to pounce on the snake. But as soon as he moved, the snake was gone. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“You are a deeply disturbed person,” Draco said and shook his head in disapproval. “I suggest you seek therapy once we get out of here.”

 

SCENE 4: FRIENDS ARE STILL UNAWARE THAT ANYTHING IS WRONG AND ARE ENJOYING RON’S POT ROAST

The doorbell rang, and Hermione rushed to open the door.

“Hermione! How are you?” Parvati said and gave Hermione a hug. “Seamus and I brought fruit salad.”

“And I brought the wine!” Pansy said from behind them.

Blaise stepped in after them. “Of course you brought the wine, you hopeless drunk,” he said.

“Says the man who passed out on my floor last weekend,” Pansy retorted.

Everybody piled into the living room, where Ginny, Dean and Neville were already sitting. “Greg’s going to be a bit late,” Pansy announced.

“And Lav can’t make it tonight,” Parvati added.

“But never mind, because we have each other’s company and an enormous supply of alcohol!” Pansy said happily.

Everyone chatted for a while, sharing news from the past few weeks, until Pansy declared that it was definitely too late on a Friday night to be sober and uncorked the wine bottles.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ron hollered from the kitchen.

Everyone gathered heaps of food on their plates and eagerly dug in.

“Thank Merlin someone in the family inherited Mum’s cooking skills,” Ginny said approvingly, gobbling her second portion of Ron’s pot roast.

“You should try Greg’s potato salad. It’s divine,” Hermione said.

“What’s keeping Harry and Draco?” Ginny wondered, mouth full.

“Probably still at work,” Ron replied through mouthfuls. “Maybe Kingsley finally forced them to finish all their incomplete reports tonight.”

“Maybe we should leave them a portion of the roast. It’s almost gone,” Parvati suggested.

“You think?” Blaise said and snatched the last piece.

 

SCENE 5: HARRY AND DRACO SUFFER FROM DEHYDRATION, DESPAIR AND FEAR OF DEATH

“This is officially worse than Voldemort. Stupid desert. Stupid job. Why did I ever want to become an Auror anyway?” Harry grumbled, and sat down. He was tired, burnt and had a pounding headache from the sun.

“You romanticized it, like all the rest of us. Danger, glamour, living on the edge, getting all the chicks you want and all that good stuff.” Draco slumped down next to him.

“I can already get all the chicks I want,” Harry retorted.

“As if you need to rub that in, oh chosen one. You being gay is the greatest tragedy in the history of the universe.”

Harry decided to save his breath rather than point out that he could get most of the guys he wanted too, at least the ones who were gay. _Problem is, that the one I do want insists that he is straight_ , he thought for the millionth time, and shot a glance at Draco.

“I’m not moving anymore,” Harry declared. “At least not before it gets dark.” He threw his cloak over himself, deciding that it was better to suffer from the extreme heat than to allow his skin to burn any more.

Draco took off his shoes and emptied them of sand. He wasn’t quiet for long.

“Harry, get up.”

“What?” Harry groaned from under the cloak. But after a moment he unwrapped himself and sat up reluctantly.

“What?” he repeated.

"Do you see something over there?"

"I see sand," Harry answered unhelpfully.

"Ha ha. Do you see something other than sand? Because if my eyes aren't fooling me, I see some sort of trees in the distance. Tell me I haven’t gone crazy and you see it too!”

“You’ve always been crazy,” Harry pointed out, but looked in the direction Draco was motioning towards.

There was something on the horizon. It was very far away, but there was a good chance that it was some kind of vegetation.

“Let’s go!” Harry shouted. With renewed spirit, they got up and started to rush their way towards the oasis.

It was as if the angels had descended from heaven and were amongst them singing ‘hallelujah’ in chorus. Suddenly they felt light in their feet, newly born, ecstatic—

“Water!” Harry wheezed.

Draco panted something that sounded a lot like “desert babes, desert babes” while he ran.

But no matter how fast they ran, the oasis didn’t seem to get any closer, until it finally disappeared entirely.

“Where the bloody hell is it!?” Draco said, panting heavily.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Malfoy.”

“What? No! You mean it was a— IT WAS A FUCKING MIRAGE!” Draco collapsed to the ground, not appearing to care that he got sand all over his sweaty body.

Harry dropped beside him in similar feelings of despair. Reality started to hit him. They could be hundreds of miles away from water or civilization. There might not be any sort of shelter from the sun for miles and miles and miles.

“WE COULD DIE OUT HERE! WE COULD REALLY DIE!” Draco wailed, rolling around in the sand like a child throwing a tantrum.

Harry snapped, “Malfoy, get a grip!”

Then, more soothingly: “Draco, you’re an Auror. You can’t lose it in a situation like this. Yeah, we might die. But we’ll hold on to life as long as we can.”

“Says mister ‘I was killed when I was seventeen but returned to life because I’m a goddamn annoying golden boy’,” Draco said sulkily. “You just don’t get it.”

 

SCENE 6: A SEARCH PARTY IS ASSIGNED

“Okay, that’s it,” Ron said. “It’s dessert time and Harry and Draco are still not here. I’m Flooing the office.”

He strode to the fireplace and threw some silver powder into it.

“Auror Shacklebolt?”

”Yes?” replied the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt who, for some inexplicable reason, seemed to occupy the Auror headquarters at any given time, including Friday nights.

“I hate to disturb you, but have Aurors Potter and Malfoy reported back from their mission yet?”

“Auror Potter and Auror Malfoy never report back after a case. I don’t see why they would make an exception and become responsible human beings in this case,” Kingsley said in a defeated tone.

“Well, did they make an arrest?” Ron asked, tense.

“There have been no arrests tonight,” Kingsley replied smoothly. “Being acquainted with the behaviour of Aurors Potter and Malfoy, I don’t see this as a reason to be alarmed. They like to take their time when it comes to interrogations.”

“Potter and Malfoy have been expected at our place for hours, and they haven’t sent any sort of message explaining why they’re late. With all due respect, sir, I think there’s a possibility that this time they’re actually in trouble.”

“Very well, Auror Weasley. I will send for emergency backup,” Kingsley said. “I suppose some sorry individuals will have to give up their Friday night plans.”

“If you don’t mind using civilians, I have a bunch of people here who fought at the Battle of Hogwarts and are more than capable of helping,” Ron said enthusiastically. “I can take over the mission.”

*

“Come on everybody! Perform a sober-up charm on yourself, there’s work to do,” Ron ordered.

“You mean you have work to do,” Pansy slurred, clutching a near-empty wine bottle.

Blaise chimed in. “Do you think I’m moving anywhere when there’s still treacle tart left?”

The old Dumbledore’s Army was, however, up and alert before Ron even had time to explain further.

“What do you want us to do?” Neville asked, putting on his cloak.

“Draco and Harry might have been captured, or worse, killed,” Ron explained. “We’re going to find them. Let’s go kick some criminal ass!”

“Woohoo!” Ginny cried with enthusiasm.

 

SCENE 7: A SENTIMENTAL NIGHT AND A GLORIOUS NEW DAY

Darkness came over them faster than they anticipated. At first, the coolness felt wonderful, until it started to become too cool for comfort.

"I'm cold. Who designed these useless Auror cloaks anyway? I thought they were supposed to shield us from danger,” Draco whined.

"Danger like hexes and curses, you twat," Harry said, even though really he agreed with Draco. The cold was going to be a problem for them in their equipment. He was just trying to devise a way to propose that Draco get closer to him without seeming like he was trying to come onto him, when Draco suddenly huddled closer to him.

"Keep me warm, Potter," Draco uttered from the folds of his cloak and snuggled against Harry.

Harry tensed slightly, and then relaxed into Draco’s warmth. He sat there watching the stars while Draco dozed lightly.

"You know, this isn’t the worst case imaginable. With the stars and the endless sand dunes, this really is kind of a beautiful place. There's something nice about being all alone away from civilization," Harry said contemplatively. "And," he shot a sideways glance at Draco, "I guess I could've ended up here with someone worse."

Draco stirred.

“Are you trying to fucking romanticize this?! This is the worst case we’ve ever had, full stop. It’s probably the worst case in Auror history. Now stop being an idiot and try to get some sleep.”

*

"Draco," Harry said tentatively. He wasn't sure if Draco was already asleep.

Draco didn’t say anything.

"I want to tell you something in case we die. I kind of, er, think I love you. I mean I know I do. I'm in love with you."

"Mhh,” Draco replied. Harry was quite sure that he was asleep and almost felt relief, until Draco suddenly lifted his head up to stare at Harry. “Oh, I get it. You know, you could've just asked."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

"Sex, of course!” Draco exclaimed, becoming animated. “You’re a man who likes men and I’m a man… If we’re going to die out here, we might as well spend our last moments in acts of passion! Of course, men aren't really my cup of tea, but I'm sure I can get enjoyment out of it too. We can die happily in the comfort of each other’s arms knowing that our last act on earth was an act of pleasure--"

"No! I don't want to have sex with you!" Harry shouted. "I mean, I do, but that's not what I meant at all."

"Well, what did you mean?" Draco asked defiantly.

"Nothing. Forget it."

"I want you to tell me. You said something about--"

"I didn't say anything. What I said was rubbish,” Harry cut him off, wishing he had never opened his stupid mouth.

"You said that you love me."

"Well I meant it just as friends, okay. I love you as a friend. I wanted to tell you in case we die."

Draco looked at him as if he didn't believe him.

"Okay... I love you too, as a friend," he said tentatively, with a strange look on his face. Then he snapped back into his former, lunatic self. "There, Potter. Happy that you've finally made a friend?"

“Shut up, Malfoy, and go back to sleep.”

“Fine, you humourless git,” Draco said cheerily and curled up back inside his cloak. Harry lay down next to him, heart still thumping wildly from their conversation. Finally, he fell asleep.

*

“Potter, wake up!”

Harry was woken by uncomfortable shaking and the blazing sun. Somehow, probably because they were so weak by now, they had slept for hours despite the cold.

"Snakes!" Draco said and shook him harder.

"What?" Harry asked and sat up. His muscles were aching from lying on the sand.

"Snakes, Potter! We are complete idiots! You're a Parselmouth. You can ask a bloody snake how to get some water around here!” he explained excitedly. “They have to be getting water somewhere in order to stay alive.”

“But we haven’t seen another snake for miles!”

“Then shout for them! They have to reveal themselves when the bloody chosen one calls for them,” Draco said with undeniable logic. “Just try it!”

Harry doubted that yelling was possible in a language that consisted of primarily of hisses, but he gave it his best try.

To his complete surprise, someone answered.

“Yesss?” he heard, and a sandy-coloured snake slithered its way to them. Draco gave a victorious whoop.

“Excuse me, could you tell us the closest place to find water around here?”

The snake eyed him suspiciously. “Not a ssshe-sssnake. Ssstrange creature. Ssspeaks with sssnakes. I thought a viable mate wasss calling.”

“Er, sorry about that,” Harry said awkwardly. “But please, we need to find water.”

“Water isss that way,” the snake replied, pointing with the end of his tail. “Many ssslithersss away.” And then it slithered off in what Harry took to be a disappointed manner.

He recounted the conversation to Draco, who cackled maliciously at the thought of Harry being taken to be a female snake.

“That’s the only funny thing that has happened during this entire case. I can’t wait to tell the whole office,” Draco said. “But enough about that. Let’s go. Water, at last! I don’t even care about the harem girls at this point.”

“I wonder what ‘many slithers’ is supposed to mean,” Harry said dubiously as they started off. They had been disappointed once, and they wouldn’t survive another false alarm.

 

SCENE EIGHT: A MORE OR LESS HAPPY ENDING

"I'm dying," Draco said. "I'm literally dying of thirst."

Just this once Harry didn’t accuse Draco of being melodramatic. In fact, Harry didn’t say anything. He didn’t have the energy to do anything except lie there like a Flobberworm. The sun was right above them, scorching them like bacon. He knew they had to get to water, or they would probably be dead within a couple of hours, but he couldn’t muster up the strength to get up, let alone to walk.

"Potter! Don't die on me."

“Mhh,” Harry replied. “’M tired.”

“Come on, we need to get moving. It can’t be much farther.”

That held little hope. They had been walking all morning, taking breaks whenever their bodies protested enough, but they were so dehydrated by now that even a mile further would be too much.

Draco shook Harry roughly, which made Harry’s burnt skin prickle, but Harry didn’t react. “Get up. We need to go.”

“Oh, what the hell,” Draco said. He leaned over and kissed Harry.

It was a terrible kiss, considering that their lips were dry as sandpaper, their breaths smelled horrible, and they stank of sweat. But Harry’s heart did a leap of excitement anyway.

“In case we die,” Draco explained. “Now please get up.”

And Harry did. Draco took his hand, and painstakingly they continued their journey, one step at a time, dragging their heavy feet in the sand.

But they never arrived at the oasis. After a few steps they collapsed into the sand and stirred no more.

*

"I found them!" Ron shouted. He crouched beside the two intertwined figures and checked for a pulse. "Quick! They're still alive, but they need medical care immediately!"

The others rushed to where Harry and Draco were laying, Seamus at the lead of the pack with his medical supplies.

“Shit. They look horrible,” Parvati commented, face twisted in a concerned frown. 

“They’ll make it,” Seamus said reassuringly while attending to them. “Barely. If we had arrived an hour later it might have been too late.”

Hydration spells and cooling spells were set over them, and they were carefully side-along Apparated to St. Mungo’s.

*

Harry woke to the whiteness of the hospital. Had he not died before, he could have mistaken the serenity of the situation for death. Now he just enjoyed the peace for as long as it lasted.

It wasn’t long until a Healer came to check up on him, and finding him awake, performed a number of procedures on him. While the Healer bustled about him, Harry heard voices somewhere outside the room.

“He’s awake!” Hermione cried.

She and Ron rushed into the room, and after solemnly promising the Healer that they wouldn’t exhaust Harry, were permitted to see him for fifteen minutes.

“Glad to see you alive, mate,” Ron said with a smile. He and Hermione sat next to his bed and Hermione took his hand.

“How did you find us?” Harry croaked.

“Well, it’s sort of a long story,” Ron said, clearly pleased to tell it. “First, of course, we went to the gang’s headquarters, to which you were presumed to have gone. There was no-one there, which indicated that you had been there, and that the gang had had to relocate. We searched the place thoroughly, and, because of Hermione’s brilliance, found that there were several Portkeys planted there. I first thought they were meant for the gang as a means of escape if their headquarters was raided, but Luna suggested they could be to get rid of unwanted visitors.”

Harry nodded for Ron to continue.

“The gang had clearly left in a hurry. We found several clues as to where they could have fled, and finally concluded that they must be in a deserted Muggle house in the outskirts of Romford. So we Apparated close, surrounded the house and took them by surprise.”

“How did that go?”

“It was wicked! The old DA was truly on a roll,” Ron said excitedly. “We set Anti-Apparition wards all around the place and Disillusionment charms on ourselves. Ginny knocked down one of them who was on guard. A few of us stayed at the front and back doors to stop anyone from escaping, and the rest of us went in. We snuck close and managed to stun a few of them before they had time to react. Then there was a bit of a battle. There were a lot more of them than we had anticipated, but luckily there were quite a few of us too, and we had the element of surprise.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Harry asked.

“Just scratches. One of them managed to disarm Dean, so he had to revert to Muggle methods of fighting and has some broken knuckles as consequence. Parvati was stunned and hit her head when she fell. But eventually we had all of them caught and bound.

"Thank Merlin we had Hermione with us," Ron continued. "After we searched the place and found your wands, we interrogated the thugs to find out where you'd been sent, and it was Hermione who figured out that we could use your wands to locate you."

At this point Hermione, who had been listening to Ron tell the story, opened her mouth.

"If a wand and a wizard have been together for a while and developed a bond, it is possible to trace the owner of the wand by using a combination of some old spells. It's similar to "point me", but not quite the same. The wand has its own will, and will only cooperate when it has reason to do so. Fortunately it worked this time,” she explained animatedly.

“We were terrified that we wouldn’t find you alive,” Ron said gravely. “We Apparated to where the wands were guiding us and couldn’t see you anywhere, and I think everyone panicked a bit when we realized how fucking impossible it could be to find you. The wands weren’t exactly specific about your location.

“I found you and Malfoy lying in the sand, holding hands. No need to explain that, mate. Although it’s probably best that I don’t mention it to Kinsley,” Ron said tactfully, referring to the Second Rule of Aurors, which was ‘ _Partners are not partners outside work._ ’

“Er, yeah. Thanks, mate,” Harry said. “Is Malfoy alright?”

“Yes, if you call being an enormous git and complaining about his tan to anyone who will listen alright.”

The Healer came scurrying back and stopped them from having any further conversation. “Time’s up! Mr. Potter needs rest. Goodbye!”

*

It was two days into his hospitalization when Draco appeared at his hospital door.

“Potter!” Malfoy shouted. “Guess what. I get to go home today!”

He let himself in and plopped down on Harry’s bed. “Annoyed, Potter?”

“You wish,” Harry said mildly.

“I hear that some people with a weaker constitution aren’t allowed to leave the hospital quite as soon as this,” Draco continued conversationally. “They require more time and care to recover from such extreme dangers as what I faced.”

“I hear that bragging makes a certain person seem like a massive dick-head,” Harry replied equally amicably. “A certain person who may or may not be sitting on my bed and in my way when I’m trying to get up so that I can leave the hospital.”

“Oh. They’re letting you go too,” Draco said with an expression of mock-injury. “I suppose it’s time for victory beers then, the moment we get out of here. I can’t wait to tell everyone that I nearly died. Chicks like that shit.”

“Not so fast, Aurors Malfoy and Potter.”

They turned their heads and found the formidable figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt looming ominously before them.

“I believe you both have some work to complete before you go anywhere.”

 

EPILOGUE: THINGS ARE LEFT DISTURBINGLY OPEN-ENDED

“I hate writing reports,” Draco whined. They were at the office, where Kingsley had persuaded them to follow him by threatening that they might never see their wands again if they didn’t comply. He stood next to their desks oppressively and supervised their work.

“I hate Aurors who complain about writing reports,” Kingsley said impassively. Harry wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not.

It was going to be a long night.

"Couldn't we just Floo Granger and bribe her to do them for us?" Draco whispered audibly to Harry.

"Men! I have my eye on you," Kingsley said in a warning tone.

"Oh yeah? What would you bribe her with?" Harry asked Draco, amused.

"Money, I suppose,” Draco said, pondering. “Or sex. Or a Malfoy heir. No, probably I’d just get her all the books she wants.”

“That might work,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t recommend the sex, unless you want the entire Weasley family after your skin.”

“I’m almost done. Auror Kingsley!” Malfoy chirped. “Can we officially name this The Worst Case Ever?”

If it hadn’t been beneath Kinsley’s dignity to roll his eyes, he probably would have by now.

“Auror Malfoy, you are not the only one who has suffered in this department.”

“But no-one has suffered quite as much as I did! It was insufferably hot. I almost died. I had to spend an entire day with Potter.”

Now Kingsley actually did roll his eyes. “No, you may not call it the The Worst Case Ever. Now get back to work, Auror Malfoy. I don’t intend to babysit you all night.”

He finally left them to their work and disappeared into his own office. 

"So," Harry said, desperately trying to think of a way to ask Draco what their current status was supposed to be. 'Do you want to hang out some time?' sounded as horrible to him as 'Will you go out with me?' did, and Harry wasn't sure that 'Let's fuck!' would be a great success either.

"About what happened out there, between us," he started, hoping that Draco would catch on and start talking instead of him.

"Happened between us? Oh, you mean that," Draco said in what was probably supposed to be an airy tone. "We were both obviously mad from the heat – you of course much more than me, as was evident from your ludicrous display of affection. I say we just put it behind us, possibly laugh about it some drunken night, and never talk about it again."

He finally looked at Harry, and his expression made Harry feel like he'd been hit by the Knight Bus.

"Right?" Draco said.

"Right," Harry said, defeated. "I guess. Or, wait – no. You can't just pretend something like that didn't happen."

But Draco did exactly that. “Hush, Potter, not so loudly. Kingsley will have our backs if he thinks that we’re not working.”

"Don’t ignore me. What will it take to get you to admit that you actually want me? Another bloody near-death experience?"

“Okay, I’m done with my report,” Draco said and promptly got up. “Pity you took so long with yours. I think we’ll have to forget about the pub tonight.”

Harry got up and grab Draco’s arm, before Draco had a chance to run off.

“I’m serious, Malfoy. I’ll take you to fucking Antarctica if that’s what it takes.”

Malfoy wriggled out of his hold, but didn’t rush out. He looked contemplative.

"Antarctica's cold. I don't like cold."

Harry felt like screaming 'that's beside the point!', but instead asked as calmly as he could: "Then where would you rather go?"

Draco thought about it for a moment.

"Somewhere temperate, like Japan."

“Fine, I’ll take you to Japan,” Harry said determinedly.

“Auror Potter, Auror Malfoy, what is going on here?” Kingsley said. He had appeared at the doorway and looked slightly exasperated. “I do hope you have finished your reports.”

“Mine’s here!” Draco announced. “I was just about to bring it to you.” He stuck his tongue out at Harry and handed his pile of parchment to Kingsley.

Kingsley scanned Draco’s report and finally gave a satisfied nod.

"Auror Malfoy, you may go. Please make sure to do your work on time in the future!"

Malfoy whooped and went for the door. “I’ll wait for you at the pub, Potter. Don’t be too late.” He left the office whistling an annoyingly happy tune.

“Auror Potter, what am I going to do with you?” Kingsley said.

“Let me keep doing field work and forget about reports?” Harry suggested hopefully.

“It was a rhetorical question, Potter. What I’m really going to do is give you thirty minutes to finish that report or you are suspended for a week. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do have a home. And I would be very grateful to spend some time in said home once in a while.”

“Right, Auror Shacklebolt,” Harry said. “I’ll get to it.”

 

END


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